


Paint me on you

by JusiChan



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Tsukki is so in love that it hurts, fluffy 4ever, metaphor with art, tsukkiyama - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 17:28:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15005795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JusiChan/pseuds/JusiChan
Summary: I want you to understand the abstract that I am, and then paint me on your mental screen. Then who knows, the words that I have no speech to express, are drawn by you, and so you receive my love in the midst of ink stains.





	Paint me on you

**Author's Note:**

> Heyy
> 
> So this is my first fanfic on the platform, I hope you like it. Important: English is not my first language! Take it easy on me in the mistakes, lol

I've always give value for the details, for the simple things of the all day, the little acts, and for that's little things.

Your little things.

Your little fractions of yourself, the little ink drops of you personality splashing your face in the most beautiful freckles.  
You know, your details make me love your big points. It was through them that I entered the narrow path of the love, being conducted in a long road, where meet you truly and I admired you for completely.

In my usual silence, I occupy my mind thinking about this my fixation for details. Maybe I was perfectionist, maybe just a mere and attentive observer. Maybe even an unoccupied person who is already tired of seeing things by the shell and uses his time to notice the deeper layers of everything and everyone. Or maybe I'm just a serious guy and too quiet, as many people think, a guy who has no excitement and does not enjoy anything.

Honestly, I think you could say better what I really am.  
After all, in your legitimate smile, I discover new details in myself.

In your lively conversation, I discover in myself curiosity for abstract subjects, beyond the satisfaction and comfort in my chest that your voice gives me.  
In your fear, in your grief, I discover in myself the desire to comfort you, to cherish your crying as I caress the soft strands of your hair.  
In his dedication to volleyball, I discover in myself the questioning. I find myself rethinking my ideals, my opinions about sport.  
In your embrace, in your affectionate touch, I discover new rhythms ever more distant in my heart.  
And even in your voice pronouncing my nickname that only you defend, I discover that it is not so annoying, if you are still the one to use it.

 

You're the one who finds me every day, Tadashi.

 

And when I let go of selfishness and focus on the details of another person, you are the only sketch on the screen of my mind.  
Sketch that evolves as your details join with it. Stronger traits are made when you tell me, of your tastes, and it makes me happy to know that if they ever change you will tell me even if I do not answer anything so that I can erase and redraw.  
Colors begin to appear in your hair after spending so much time with you nested in my chest, allowing me to analyze the peculiar tone of your strands, which looks like a greenish brown, as unique as you.  
The skin is not so clear or so dark, it is painted with watercolor by the imaginary brushes that are my fingers, which have already mapped the whole length of your body feeling the contrast of your fervor against my cold hands, as on weekend nights, in which we lie down watching some movie or watching the stars.

Ah yes, the stars. Our favorite subject in common, but I never told you that my favorite constellation was cinnamon-brown, which was carried in the most beautiful part of my universe where it gained all its light. I could waste hours hooking up the beautiful stars you call freckles on your face.

You are an unfinished painting. The traces that compose you can be erased and redone to any time. That's because, even though you are the ideal work for me, I know that you often consider yourself as a drawing painted off the edges. But I will always be here to introduce you to the most beautiful arts of Manet and Da Vinci, so that you see that art has no borders or concrete lines that delimit the expression.

I will be your refuge, since you are often mine without knowing. Only your smile was once to me an anchor in moments I that I seemed to want to sink into a sea of nanking. So I want you to receive my security, my support and my concern for my short features and details.

I want you to understand the abstract that I am, and then paint me on your mental screen. Then who knows, the words that I have no speech to express, are drawn by you, and so you receive my love in the midst of ink stains.

**Author's Note:**

> bye babies <3


End file.
